'Night

The night robs me of my balance;
I look for the walls to scale,
Stepping on softness once
And then on moving, flesh, skin and bones,
Beyond the fine line of tolerance.
I hear a grunt out of the dark,
Curses, half-muttered in slumber,
Mistaking my identity for someone else.
The door behind me doesn't shut gently,
But swung with a bang loud enough for half the world to share.
Next thing I hear is the collective
Angry mob of complaints.
I go back to sleep, brooding
Like I never did in daylight.